


Damn The Tea

by TheBigBadWolf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, Lestrade likes to play cupid, M/M, Mini Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigBadWolf/pseuds/TheBigBadWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade brings to John's attention a new quirk that has popped up in Sherlock. What could it mean? And what is Sherlock playing at?</p><p>Just a mini-fic for talktomeinsirensong.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn The Tea

John, struggling against the weight of the shopping, put his keys in the front door and fought to work the lock open. When he heard the click of the lock giving way two shots rang out from the flat above. Dropping everything he busted past the door and took the steps two at a time until he was standing at the open door of 221B Baker Street.

“Dammit Sherlock!” The lanky git in question was standing in the middle of their flat with John’s pistol in hand, pointed directly at the wall behind the couch. Quickly closing the space between them John took the gun from and unloaded it. “What have I told you? Why...” John cut off. “Forget it. I have to go pick our shopping up off the street outside.”

“What is it doing out there?” Sherlock, robe falling off his shoulders, crossed the flat and threw himself down onto the couch.  John knew this was the beginning of a pout.

“Shut up Sherlock.” John shook his head and left the flat to get the shopping. After he managed to drag everything back up into their kitchen and put everything away the sulking ‘child’ had picked himself up and wandered into the kitchen demanding John make him a cup of tea.

“You’ll be making yourself a cup so why not make me one as well?” Sherlock gently rested his chin on John’s good shoulder.

“Fine.” John gave up. “But it wouldn’t kill you to make yourself a cup once in a while.”

“It is a likely possibility John. Any variable number of incidents can occur and I could be instantly killed, all for the sake of making a cup of tea.” Sherlock’s voice was low and teasing in John’s ear making the good doctor go rigid. John ever so slightly leaned away from Sherlock’s touch. For months now he and Sherlock had reached that point where they were both so comfortable as friends that contact like this would have been nothing but normal. John’s view on the whole matter however abruptly changed when just the other night Lestrade had commented on it.

_“John.” Lestrade called the man over to him, and as the doctor walked up he shifted on the balls of his feet. “Have you and Sherlock…….” He thought for a moment. “Are you two……” He stopped again._

_“Greg? What are you on about?” John was patient but very much confused._

_“Look, mate, there is no easy way to ask this but rumors have been floating around the Yard and…..” Another sentence trailed off. “You and Sherlock finally, you know, a thing?” Greg eased back a bit; he had seen John punch several men before, and within just an inch of their lives. He definitely didn’t want to be at the end of that man’s fist._

_“What?” Greg just stared at him wide eyed and a thought crossed the inspector’s mind._ ‘Bless to poor man, he is completely oblivious.’

_“You honestly know notice the way he touches you, or looks at you?” Greg kept his voice low._

_“What are you on about Lestrade? I swear if you’re taking the piss…..” Now it was John’s turn to leave a sentence unfinished._

_“I’m serious mate; he looks at you like your some kind of dish or something. And I’ve never seen him touch anyone ever, it one of his odd quirks. But he’s practically glued to you.”_

_“Greg you can’t be serious—” John was abruptly cut off._

_“John! Stop socializing, we’ve a job to do!” Sherlock was hunched over the body smiling like an absolute psychopath. When John didn’t move Sherlock looked up and shot daggers at the man with his eyes. “John!”  Watson spent to rest of the night analyzing_ everything _._

“John!” Sherlock was yelling right into Watson’s ear. “John!”

“What?” John snapped out of his thoughts and practically flew to the opposite side of the kitchen. “What are you yelling for?” He must have looked utterly frightened because Sherlock’s usual indifferent expression fell into concern.

“Where were you just now?” Sherlock took one step forward and John one step back.

“Nowhere.” He squared his shoulders and straightened his back.

“That wasn’t ‘nowhere’ John. I called your name five times. What’s happened?” Sherlock took another step forward and this time John’s step back had him against the wall.

“Nothing’s happened just get your damn mug of tea and go bother someone else for a while.” John rubbed a hand over his face, his mind was in overdrive. His flat mate, his perfect, brilliant, angular flat mate stood only two feet from him and the only thing he could think about were those long fingers. Lestrade hadn’t been wrong; when John thought about it he realized that Sherlock and he had become rather comfortable in each other’s company. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Why was he suddenly noticing every little detail now? John made a mental note to chin Greg next rugby match; that would serve him right.

“John, you can’t lie to me. You began acting odd the other night while we were on that case. You kept a distance and observed everything, everything concerning me that is. It only occurred after Lestrade had spoken to you, so it must have been something about me. Lestrade himself had been watching us like a hawk. Just now when I had my chin on your shoulder your mind spiraled out into god only knows where. When you came back you jumped as though you were a frightened cat. Those bags under your eyes tell me you hadn’t much sleep and your clenching and un-clenching your fist; an old habit left over from physical therapy. You are nervous. In conclusion you’ve had something on your mind and don’t wish me to know.” Sherlock took in a breath. “Out with it John Watson.”

Watson’s jaw would have been laying on the floor if it weren’t already hooked to the rest of his skull. “Sherlock.” He honestly didn’t know how to respond. Damn that brilliant genius, he should have known the git would have seen everything.  

“Say it John.” Sherlock caught his eye; he knew everything. Everything. All of it. He was just waiting for John to say the words.

“Lestrade…..Greg said you don’t touch anybody. That it’s just another of your weird habits, but…” John fumbled for the words.

“But you’ve noticed that that is not the case with you?” Sherlock took another step towards him.

“Sherlock.” John let the weight of the situation sink in. He knew that for a while now they had been carefully balancing on the edge of something, both careful not to cross the line. Sherlock made his position clear the first night they met and John hadn’t given it a second thought. Until now that is. When John came back from this thought he realized that Sherlock was now only inches from him, if John could sink back into the wall he would have.

“Don’t be foolish John, you know my methods. Tell me what you may deduce from all the facts that stand before us.” Sherlock had a sly kind of smile on his face, clearly he was having fun. When John didn’t answer he continued. “Shall I walk you through it?” He nodded and pressed on. “Lestrade brought to your attention a certain little fact that has caused you to view our— arrangement with a fresh perspective. Now that you’ve noticed these things what do you make of them? Lestrade was correct; I don’t make it a habit of mine to indulge in physical contact. He was also correct in the fact that I do however ‘touch’ you as he may have said it.” Sherlock watch John swallow. “Eyes dilated, pulse racing, and yet your hands have stilled. So not fear. What then? Not curiosity, no. Definitely not anger.” Sherlock let the air hang between them for a moment. “Arousal. Yes that’s it. Dear Dr. Watson very much likes what he sees, does he?”

“You said, that night you said---” John desperately tried regain his footing in the conversation.

“Yes yes I’m aware of what I said though the circumstances have changed haven’t they.” At this Sherlock waved a dismissive hand and backed off, waiting for the air to clear of the tension. “You’ve become invaluable John. Anyone would say as much, I most of all. Though my bother enjoys his little quips, they don’t have much merit. I am not a fool when it comes to such relationships; I just simply choose not to indulge in them. Though that may change just as many other things have in the course of your entering my life.”

“Sherlock.” John had come back to reality.

“I’m not finished John.” Sherlock opened his mouth to continue but was cut off.

“Sherlock. Shut up.”

“What?”

“I said shut up. Christ, sometimes listening to you is like trying to understand a dead language.” John all but tore himself from the wall he had nearly melted into. And before the frown could settle on Sherlock’s face he continued. “Look we’re both shit with words and you already know everything you git so just get on with it before I hit you for distracting me from my tea that went cold two minutes ago.”

“Get on with it?” Sherlock gave him a questioning look.

“For a genius you can be a complete idiot sometimes.” John stepped forward and grabbed a fistful Sherlock’s robe and pulled the man down into a chaste kiss. It only took Sherlock a few moments to catch up and when he did it turned into a full on snog leaving John to break from it so he could let out the laugh that had been building up. When he managed to stop laughing he continued. “Right well, that’s settled. Should call Greg, odds are they are running a bet at the Yard.” Sherlock smiled.

“Greg had his on ‘before the end of the month’.” He too broke out into laughter when John’s eyes grew two sizes.

“You arse! This was all game. Make me go mad just so you could get off?” John tried to sound angry but it really wasn’t working. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.” John pulled him back and made it his personal mission to explore every inch of the detective’s mouth. It was only minutes before they found themselves in the bedroom. _‘Damn the tea!’_ John thought to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I may write a bit of a bedroom scene, still unsure. So many decisions so little motivation. -.-


End file.
